


Designer Fig Leaf

by shinykari (meinterrupted)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Biting, Darcy is the fandom bicycle and I love it, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, F/M, Marking, Possessive Behavior, bruce loves it too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-04
Updated: 2012-09-04
Packaged: 2017-11-13 12:39:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meinterrupted/pseuds/shinykari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy’s fingernails are painted Hulk green.  Bruce really, really likes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Designer Fig Leaf

**Author's Note:**

> I had a craving for possessive!Bruce/Darcy, and no one on Tumblr could rec me any, so I wrote it. *hands* Lots of love to Sarah/acadecian for betaing; any remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> '[Designer Fig Leaf](http://www.sephora.com/productimages/sku/s1335108-main-Lhero.jpg)' is a shade of metallic green nail polish by Sephora by OPI. It's not exactly Hulk green, but it was perfect for this story.

Darcy’s fingernails are painted Hulk green.

Bruce doesn’t know why he notices it today of all days--Darcy changes her nail color twice a week at least and has a polish collection that is slightly terrifying in size and variety. She likes bright colors and bold patterns, and doesn’t limit it to just her fingers. Sometimes, he even helps, sitting on their couch at night with her feet in his lap and a tiny paintbrush in his hand while she tells him the new gossip coming out of the administrative side of SHIELD and listens to him complain about Tony’s latest attempt to blow the two of them up. It’s surprisingly soothing, the smooth glide of the paint and her nearness combining to put the Other Guy to sleep.

He realizes he’s staring when she calls his name twice in a row. He jerks his gaze up to see an expression of fond exasperation on her face. “You with me now?” she asks.

There’s a strange feeling bubbling up in his chest. He frowns and looks back down at her hands. “Why are your nails green?”

He meets her eyes again, and realizes she’s blushing faintly. “I, uh, felt like matching today.”

Bruce cocks his head to the side and studies her. She’s wearing a charcoal grey pants suit and black pumps that make her his height exactly. Her shirt is pale blue with navy pinstripes, and the top two buttons are undone, showing off just a hint of creamy skin. Her dark hair is twisted back in a conservative french twist, and held in place with invisible bobby pins. She looks beautiful, but he doesn’t see any green. He tells her so, and her blush deepens. “It’s not my suit,” she says, and Bruce finally, finally gets it.

He reaches up and brushes her jacket out of the way and slips his hand into her shirt. He hooks a finger around her bra-strap and drags it out into the light. “I see,” he murmurs. He hears her breath hitch as he thumbs the green elastic, and wonders what she sees in his face, if his eyes are bleeding to green. He feels like they might be, a bubble of possessiveness growing in his chest the longer he stares. He swallows, unable to tear his gaze away from that hint of green.

“Is it... are you okay?” Her fingers skate across his cheekbone and into his curls, tipping his face to meet hers. Concern for him softens her face, and he can no longer help himself. He tugs her closer by his hold on her bra and kisses her hard, all tongue and teeth. Darcy gasps in surprise, and he wraps his free arm around her waist to press her against him, letting her feel just how okay he is. “Okay, I see you like it then,” she laughs into his mouth, and kisses him back hungrily.

After a few more heated moments, she places her palms flat against his chest and pushes. Instinctively, he holds her tighter, leaning down to mouth at her neck. “Bruce,” she murmurs, grabbing his face and forcing him to meet her gaze. Her skin is flushed and her eyes have dilated until there’s only a bit of blue showing. She grins. “I’m going to go lock the door.”

“Mmm,” he hums, darting in to lick her swollen lips. “Yes, good plan.” She laughs again and twists herself out of his grasp. He watches the sway of her hips as she walks, his hands itching to touch her, to trace her curves with his fingers and then his mouth. He wants to strip her naked, naked but for that silly green polish, and mark her in a far more visceral way. He feels the Other Guy in the back of his head, watchful, but not pushing. He approves of Darcy, and he really approves of this streak of possessiveness Bruce has developed about her. It’s a little scary at times, and he wonders what will happen when she inevitably realizes she can do better than a broken man nearly twice her age.

Before he can slide further down that particular path, Darcy is back and kissing him soundly. “You’re doing it again,” she whispers. “Stop thinking and take my clothes off.”

He growls in response and spins them until she’s pressed back against the lab table. He tugs her jacket off her arms, dropping it carelessly on the floor before going back to roughly unbutton her blouse. He untucks it from her trousers and pulls it down to her elbows, using it to trap her arms behind her. He glances back up to her face and asks, “Yes?” She nods, her breathing erratic.

She’s wearing a white tanktop as an undershirt, but he can see the dark outline of her green bra through the thin material. He cups her breasts and thumbs her nipples through the fabric, and leans in to mouth at her collarbone. It’s just soft nibbles at first, more a scrape of teeth than a real bite, but when Darcy rolls her hips and whimpers, he sucks hard for a second before soothing the hurt with his tongue. He pulls back just enough to survey his handiwork; the hickey is so pale as to be barely noticeable.

That’s not good enough.

He moves down farther, pulling the straps of her tank top and bra off her shoulders, baring her breasts. Her nipples are already hard, and he can’t resist darting his tongue out to taste them. When he leans back, they’re slick and shiny and she’s practically writhing, trying to rub herself against his thigh and keep her balance on the four-inch-heels. He kisses the soft swell of her left breast gently before using his teeth. She gasps his name when he sucks a bruise into the tender skin. He makes a matching mark on her right breast, and his knees protest as he drops to the floor to more easily kiss her soft stomach. He fumbles with the fastenings of her trousers, eventually managing to get them undone. She lifts her hips from the table, and the silky grey fabric slides down her thighs to pool around her ankles, exposing her panties.

They aren’t a solid green; they’re Hulk underwear, the Other Guy’s face-- _his_ face--printed all over the fabric that’s as close to Darcy as anything can get. He moans her name and licks her through the cotton, where she’s already wet, so wet. She’s soaking wet for him and is wearing his face on her goddamn panties and Bruce can’t remember ever being this turned on in his life.

He can’t take it any more and yanks the cotton down roughly, exposing her dark, damp curls to the cool lab air. He mouths at her, scraping his teeth over the jut of her hipbone, sucking another hickey into the soft roundness of her stomach. He slides his fingers up her inner thigh and up to circle her clit, eliciting a soft moan from Darcy, and continues his oral assault on her skin. She’s going to be black and blue, and a very atavistic part of Bruce’s mind is extremely pleased by that.

Her fingers slide into his hair, using it to tug him upright. While he’d been on his knees, she’d removed her blouse, tank top, and bra, leaving her almost entirely nude but for the pool of trousers around her ankles and her pumps. She reaches down and cups him through his khakis, and his hips jerk instinctively toward her. Grinning, she undoes his fly and slides his pants and boxers down, freeing his cock. She wraps her hand around his length, humming with pleasure as she kicks off her own pants. He leans in and licks the shell of her ear and reaches down to cup her ass, tugging her closer.

He lifts her up and sets her gently down on the lab table, thankful it was relatively clean for once. She wraps her legs around his waist, and he can feel her heels digging into his back as she urges him closer. He slides in slowly, relishing Darcy’s wet heat around his cock. Her head falls back when he bottoms out, and he can’t stop himself from licking a hot stripe up the column of her throat. He slides one hand up to cup the back of her head and splays the fingers of the other on the small of her back, and starts fucking her in earnest. Darcy whines and digs her nails into the back of his neck, and that small pain ratchets his arousal even higher.

She starts chanting his name, and arches toward him. He slips a hand between them and rubs at her clit in time with his thrusts, until she comes, pulling his hair hard. The feeling of her inner muscles fluttering around his cock sends him over the edge, and he comes with her name on his lips.

They sit like that for a few minutes, Darcy’s fingers threaded through his hair, and his forehead resting on her shoulder. “Mmm,” she hummed. “Best lunch break ever.”

He snorts a laugh and pulls back until his softened cock slips out of her. “Is that right?” Bruce reaches for a roll of paper towels and cleans himself up before tucking his cock back into his boxers and doing up his pants. He leans in and kisses her lips, gentle now, and traces the edge of the highest hickey with a finger. “So they’re expecting you back at work?”

She smirks and rubs her cheek against his. “Mmm-hmm. Which means I need to get dressed and try to look a little less like I just got thoroughly fucked by my sexy doctor boyfriend.” She slides off the table with a wince, and kisses him again before bending down to gather her clothes. “I’ll be back,” she murmurs, and he watches her as she walks, naked and wearing her heels, to the lab’s bathroom.

When she shuts the door behind her, Bruce slumps into a chair. The Other Guy is purring happily in the back of his mind, content and quiet. He runs his fingers through his hair, wondering what he did to get this lucky, to have a beautiful, vivacious young woman apparently crazy enough about him to overlook his big, green problem.

“Hey, what are you thinking in that big brain of yours?” He looks up to see her dressed and looking almost entirely put together and smiling down at him. “If I don’t get back soon, Coulson is going to send Tony to find me, and neither of us want that,” she says, holding her hand out for him. He takes it and she tugs him to his feet. “So, you like the green, hmm? I didn’t know you had that in you, babe.”

He flushes. “I, uh, I didn’t either, honestly.” He wraps his arms around her waist and presses his forehead to hers. “You, you liked it?”

She tucks her hands in the back pockets of his khakis and pulls him closer. “I loved it. I’ll see you after work, mmkay? Don’t let Tony keep you too late.” She squeezes his ass and grins. “See you later, Bruce.” She turns and grabs her purse off the table, blowing a kiss at him before she slips out the door.

He smiles and sits back down in the chair, frowning and leaning forward to when he realizes he’s sat on something. He reaches into the pocket of his khakis and pulls out a pair of Hulk panties.

**Author's Note:**

> I also have plans for a possessive!Steve/Darcy story, but I think that one is going to fit into the Five Minutes Longer continuity, and I want to write part 3 before I start on part 4.


End file.
